Jamie's Dad
by wildblueyonder6
Summary: Sam, Dean & Jamie Winchester, AU - Rating: PG Summary: Sometimes Jamie just likes to blow things up. Warning: Parental spanking. If this offends you, don't read.


Title: Jamie's Dad  
>Sam, Dean &amp; Jamie Winchester Rating: PG<br>Summary: Sometimes Jamie just likes to blow things up.

XXX

Dean has thought of himself as a hunter for so many years that he has always figured that would be how he defined himself. It's not true of course, he has always more than a hunter, he's a son and a brother as well. Both of those things are part of his genetic make up. Part of what makes Dean - _Dean._ But of all of the labels he has worn through the years, there was nothing he identified with stronger than being Jamie's Dad.

He has always been there for Sam and his father. He has always been willing to go to any extreme to save them, go through hell and back to keep them safe. Literally. He didn't think it was possible to love anyone more than his brother or his father.

But then _he_ became a father. There was nothing that could prepare him for the overwhelming love he had for Jamie.

Nothing.

Suddenly there wasn't anything he wouldn't do to protect his son.

Which is why the kid drove him nuts routinely.

Jamie Winchester made raising Sam Winchester look like a walk in the park. Dean wondered if it was because Jamie was his responsibility even more than Sam had been. Dean didn't think that was the case. He had shouldered a lot with Sam and while Sam had been challenging, Dean didn't really find it hard. Dad had been around too, although even Dean had to admit that he had no small part in helping to raise Sam. Plus he has his Dad _and_ Sam to help carry some of the burden of raising Jamie. Still, Jamie was his son so a careful scrutiny of responsibility meant that he felt that the buck stopped with him.

Was it because Jamie was intrinsically a bad kid? That was nowhere near the truth. Jamie could and did get into trouble routinely, but the kid had a heart of gold. Sometime his brain just couldn't remind his body not to get into shit. Dean understood that, it was part of his MO as a kid too.

Truth be told, Dean had to blame it on himself. The kid could do no real wrong in Dean's eyes. He was rambunctious, had a smart mouth and could teach Sam a thing or two about being stubborn. Jamie was far too independent for his own good and had a creative flair that just naturally resulted in mayhem wherever he was. Jamie Winchester was a one-man demolition crew in more ways than one.

But all the boy had to do was look at Dean. Drop his chin and then lift it again to meet Dean with big green eyes, so much like his own and then?

Well, Dean folded like a broken accordion.

But now, today, Dean realizes that the chest crushing love he feels for his kid just wasn't enough. To love Jamie unconditionally, so much so that he ignores his less than stellar behavior at times is doing the boy a disservice.

Being a dad is more than just ice cream and lollypops.

XXX

Jamie knows he's in trouble. How much trouble is yet to be determined. He scuffs his feet down Main Street, head lowered and ponders his fate. He hadn't meant to cause such a commotion.

Really.

But even as he turns to head toward his bike. Jamie realizes that wasn't going to cut it.

Maybe it's the background noise of firefighters and the sound of the fire hydrant's powerful stream of water hitting Mrs. Markum's potting shed that opens his eyes to just how bad things could be.

Then again, it might be when he feels Jeff Banner's hand touch his shoulder and stop his forward momentum. Jamie stands back to the fray, and slowly turned toward the sheriff.

"Hey, Mr. Jeff."

"Hey, Jamie. Let's get your bike in the squad car and then I'm gonna give your dad a call. You can wait in the front seat."

Jamie sits in the front seat of the squad car and watches as his best friend's dad talks on his cell phone outside. He figures he should be happy, he hasn't been arrested or anything but that is not likely to happen anyway.

This is Jamie's town. They don't arrest kids for being stupid. They just call up their fathers and wait for the whoopin' to begin.

Besides Mrs. Markum wouldn't press charges. Oh she had been pissed alright. Jamie's ear still stung from her rough treatment. But what was worse was when she actually cried about her begonias. A piece of Jamie laughed at that, crying because her dumb old flowers got cremated. But another part of Jamie just felt horrible about it. Mrs. Markum loved her flowers. Her house was always the fanciest in town, at least in terms of flowers. No matter how hot or how cold, she made sure that her garden thrived. She won ribbons for her flowers every year at the state fair.

It had only taken one boy to ruin her 20-year run of good luck.

Jamie presses his head up against the cool of the window. He feels flushed and figures it isn't just because the flames might have seared off his eyebrows.

No, it was guilt. Pure and simple.

Jamie turns toward the windshield and watches as the sheriff snaps the phone shut. A moment later Sheriff Banner settles himself in the car, pulls his seatbelt across, then nods at Jamie to do the same.

Jamie complies but figures it won't matter. There is no seat belt at all that could save his ass today.

XXX

Dean paces anxiously by the front door of the house. Deep breath. Deep breath. He forces himself to be still. Jamie's fine. Jeff had said he was fine. Not even a scrape.

"Dude. Stop it with the pacing. Jeff'll bring him here soon." Sam is standing in the entrance to the kitchen, hip to door jam, arms jammed in his pockets, a tell which proves he too is a little worried about his nephew.

"Yeah, I know. I just…" Dean runs a hand over his face, a gesture so familiar that he doesn't even realize that he's doing it. Dean smiles a little to himself when he notices the scratch of whisker on hand. He has tells too.

"Look. It is just property damage. Just the potting shed. They got the fire under control pretty quickly." Sam is trying to be supportive but all Dean can think about is _what if_… and that thought is so unbelievably horrific that even thinking about it causes him to tremble.

Damn that kid.

"So, Jamie's fine. The potting shed, not so much. What do you think the next step is? How can I stop this shit from happening again?" Dean means it - he needs Sam's perspective on this.

Sam drops his head. "Dean, I mean, I hate to say it but I think this needs the big guns. I know I'm so not the person who should say this. Especially after how much bitchin' I did about Dad and his archaic discipline methods but I think an old fashioned butt warming would do the kid wonders."

Dean nods. He has been thinking the same thing. He knows if his father were here, instead of enjoying some time off at Bobby's, that he would be echoing his brother's thoughts.

Emphatically.

Dean doesn't have a problem spanking Jamie. Not really. It has happened before and Dean figures it will again, it is just that he_ prefers _not to. And with both Sam and Dad in the mix, he doesn't really have to all that much. His dad and his brother have occasionally tipped the kid over their laps. Dean never protests, he trusts his father and brother with Jamie's life, he sure as hell is not gonna bitch if they feel like he needs a little hands on guidance but Dean's instinct is to stop any pain from coming to Jamie. Even if it's deserved and in the form of a spanking.

"Dean, it's okay you know. Jamie loves you, you love him. God knows how Dad and I feel but he has got to stop this shit. This is…" Sam grasps for a word choice. "unsafe. I mean, the kid knows stuff. He knows more about fire than most 13-year olds. The boy has been putting dead things to a salt and burn for a while now. So him fuckin' around with matches and gasoline and fuckin' Molotov cocktails on a whim? That is just wrong."

Dean agrees, he does. Irresponsible, impulsive, counter productive and above all dangerous. Yeah and Sam is right. If their dad were here the man would be glaring at Dean for even considering letting it go without a strong physical warning that this shit stops now.

But it is not Dean's father that is the deciding factor, it is Dean himself. So if whaling on Jamie's ass makes an impression about his foolish behavior then that is what he will do.

The police cruiser pulls up in front of the gray farmhouse. Jeff Banner gets out and purposefully unlocks the trunk. He grabs Jamie's bike and props it against the porch and walks around to Jamie's side. He opens the door and stands quietly beside it, his body language gentle despite how agitated he must feel with Jamie.

Jamie drops his head and feels every freckle in his face burn with shame. This man is JR's dad. He has spent hours at their house. He has eaten dinner with them and slept under their roof and now the man has the unfortunate obligation to take Jamie to his house in an official capacity as the town Sheriff.

"Mr. Jeff, I'm sorry." It is the first words that Jamie has said since he got in the car. They feel woefully inadequate.

"I'm sure you are, Jamie. But Mrs. Markum is the one you are gonna need to discuss that with."

"Yes, sir."

Jamie feels Jeff Banner's hand squeeze around his shoulders and neck as he not unkindly pushes him up the steps to the front door. His hand doesn't even get the chance to knock before the door opens wide and Jamie is faced with his father.

For a brief second Jamie tenses under Jeff's hand. The urge to just take off and run somewhere is overpowering. But instead he drops his head and refuses to meet his father's eyes.

"Thank you, Jeff." His dad's voice is smooth, but Jamie knows it is for Jeff's benefit.

"No problem, Dean. But I gotta get back to ground zero and help them sort this stuff out."

There is a handoff of sorts, Jeff pushes Jamie in and Dean reaches for him. Dean turns him around to face forward, his hand firmly on Jamie's shoulders now.

Dad expects something. Jamie's not sure what he can say that he has not already said.

"I really am sorry, sir." There's a moment when Jamie thinks that Jeff might just reach out and ruffle his hair but instead he nods tightly. "See to it this doesn't happen again, Jamie." and heads down the steps toward the police car.

Jamie stands there quietly but his heart is hammering in his chest. Then, as usual, when Jamie starts to panic he slides into smart-ass mode. He just doesn't have a filter sometimes. Plus, it was a just a prank. A prank gone unbelievably FUBAR but Jamie's intent had only been fun.

His Dad likes fun and mischief and Jamie knows from stories that he was no stranger to that as a kid. Suddenly it occurs to Jamie that might be his saving grace. Jamie turns into his father, pivoting under his rather strong grip on his shoulder.

"Dad, you should have seen the explosion. It was a little more than I expected but it was awesome! I think Mrs. Markum is gonna be picking up pottery pieces for the next year." Jamie grins and tries to make it sound enthusiastic. Because what is a prank without enthusiasm? Jamie glances quickly across the room to see Uncle Sam's reaction a split second before his father's. Sam is shaking his head in a brief but apparently sympathetic move that has Jamie instantly wondering about his choice of explanations.

He doesn't have long to wonder.

Dad grabs Jamie by the collar and pulls him up to him in a face-to-face clean and jerk that leaves Jamie standing momentarily on his toes.

"Do you find it entertaining that an old lady had to dodge pottery shrapnel during her weekly bridge game?" His father sounds so much like his grandfather that Jamie gulps.

His dad doesn't sound at all snarky or amused, not even a little bit. He drops Jamie quickly to the floor.

Time for plan B.

"No, sir. That isn't what I meant. I just meant that the explosion _itself_ was kind of impressive. " Dad's eyes narrow even more.

_Oh shit, I am digging myself in so deep I'm gonna need a rope and a fucking ladder to ever see daylight again._

"But more than that, I feel deeply ashamed at having ruined Mrs. Markum's pottery shed. And I fully intend to go over there. Right now in fact, and clean up every ounce of pottery shrapnel I can find. Hell, I think that rebuilding that potting shed would be a great idea. Bigger and better than before. Maybe even attach a little greenhouse so that Mrs. Markum can get a jump on her begonias next spring." Jamie realizes he is running on at the mouth but it can't be helped. Facing an angry Dean Winchester is at the very least disconcerting.

Dad interrupts. "All very fine ideas, son. You will have plenty of time to work on rebuilding that shed too. Especially since you are grounded for the next month. – Consider it a work release program."

"I think that's fair, Dad. I'm gonna get your tools right now. Uncle Sam, can you drive me to the hardware store? I don't think I can carry all of the building materials on my bike." Jamie makes a move away from Dad heading out the front door toward barn for tools.

"Not so fast, Jamie."

Jamie stops, hand on the screen door a moment away from freedom. He is breathing a little heavy. Whether that is because of the soliloquy he just spewed or the panic that is welling up in his chest, Jamie's not sure.

"Not through yet, son."

Jamie slumps his shoulders resigned to his fate. He turns back to his dad and once again shoots a glance at Uncle Sam. This time he is looking for help, just a glimmer would be wonderful but Sam just purses his lips and once again shakes his head. He is getting nothing from his uncle.

"Okay, Jamie. Upstairs. Double time."

Jamie trots through the living room and up the steps to his bedroom with his father right behind him although at a slower pace. Once in his bedroom he looses the jeans. Dad probably won't let him keep them anyway and Jamie thinks that it might be considered a pro-active measure. Maybe if Dad sees Jamie cooperating he will forego a bare assed spanking.

Dad steps into the bedroom and closes the door behind him. It gives Jamie a semblance of privacy but only that. Lord knows, Uncle Sam's gonna know what is going on up here.

Dad sits on the bed, pats the area next to him for Jamie to settle into.

"Jamie, I am at a loss here. Why would you do something like this? I mean, Dude, so fuckin' dumb."

"Dunno."

Dad straightens, puts a little bass in his voice. "Not an acceptable answer, Son."

Jamie sighs and tries to think of an answer that won't get him in more hot water. "Just foolin' around. It was a joke. JR and I were betting. He bet I couldn't and I bet I could. I only wanted to see if I could bust out the back window. It was supposed to be a _controlled_ explosion."

"Oh, so because the intent was not overwhelming property damage, that makes it okay?"

Jamie sighs again. Dad has a way of making it sound so…naughty. "No, sir. It's not okay. I was wrong. I just didn't think that it was that big a deal."

"Yeah, well it is. Mrs. Markum is out a potting shed. You have cost our town quite a bit in policing and fire department fees. You know how to make makeshift bombs because I taught you. And I know damn well I taught you to be careful and aware of what you are doing. Do you think I taught it to you to blow up a neighbor's shed? Do you really think that the tools you need to use for hunting are something you should be using on Mrs. Markum?"

Jamie shakes his head.

"But more than that, you could have been hurt. Really hurt, Jamie. You took that old saying about playing with fire to a whole 'nother level. Hunting evil is already a dangerous job, there's no need to up the anti on a fucking shed. I could have lost you today." The last sentence is softer than the rest of the speech, not quite a whisper but low and Jamie can hear the tremor in his father's voice.

Which in itself is strange because his dad is tough and hard and he isn't a pussy.

Jamie doesn't know what to say. His dad is right.

"So, Jamie. Let's get this over with, huh?"

Jamie shifts his weight from next to his father to over his lap. He doesn't take his boxers off and his dad doesn't ask. It will be easy enough for his father to pull them down if he chooses.

Jamie takes a deep breath and shifts over his dad again. It is a hell of a position. Not really uncomfortable, at least not at the moment, but laying face down over any Winchester is nothing Jamie likes to do.

Dad brings his hand down hard. A sharp smack that echoes through the little room. Jamie manages to keep himself anchored to the father by sheer will power. The slap stings and Jamie is sure if he looked back at his ass there would be a perfectly shaped Dean Winchester handprint there. But that thought is just momentary because soon he has more than one handprint to worry about. His father doesn't spank real fast, it is more methodical and cadenced. Each swat is sharp and hard and designed for optimal sting.

Jamie doesn't try to be stoic. It never works anyway and neither his dad, Gramps nor Uncle Sam expect him to. At first he just hisses at the feeling but soon one slap over laps another and his entire ass is on fire.

How his father knows that he has had enough, Jamie never can tell but his dad is on the money every time. It is never soon enough for Jamie though, who cries into the bedspread. Dad finishes and Jamie spontaneously crawls onto Dean's lap. He hasn't done that in years and Jamie isn't sure why he needs to now. But he can feel his wet tears fall onto his neck and isn't that just the strangest thing?

"Jamie, please kid. Don't pull any shit like this again." His father's voice shakes with emotion as Dad squeezes just a little harder. Jamie sniffles and hears a corresponding sniffle from his dad. It is odd to say the least.

Dad stands, deposits Jamie a little roughly next to the bed and then walks out of the room, he shuts the door behind him and leaves Jamie with his own thoughts for the night.

XXX

Dean walks past Sam who is still standing in the kitchen. He opens the fridge, grabs two bottles of beer, twists their caps off in one quick movement and then walks past Sam, handing him a beer like a brew threw.

Then Dean heads out to the front porch and settles himself in a rocking chair. It is an Adirondack rocking chair, big and sturdy and well worth the money they paid for it. Sam joins him a moment later and settles on his own chair.

"You okay?" Sam queries.

"'Course I'm okay. I'm not the one who just got his ass beat."

Sam chuffs low and takes a long pull from his bottle.

They sit in companionable silence for a while. Dean watches as the shadows lengthen and the late afternoon sun spills over the tree line.

"You know, Dean. We got into trouble at least as bad as Jamie and we survived. The kid has the reflexes of a cat."

"And the brains of a lab rat." Dean adds ruefully.

Sam smiles. It is a slow grin but heartfelt.

"We had our run in with blowin' shit up. Fires too, if I remember correctly." Sam tilts back in the rocking chair, sucks down half the beer in one deep swallow.

"Remember that forth of July when you "acquired" all of those illegal fireworks from someplace. I can still remember how fuckin' cool that was, just you and me and that empty field."

Dean leans forward in the chair, scratches his chin trying to place the memory. "Yeah, I do. I also remember that we burned the entire field down when that line of M80s caught on fire prematurely."

"See, Dean…that's what I mean. We did dumb stuff too. We got past it, Jamie will. We just gotta watch him is all. Let him make some mistakes but what you did today? Walloping him if he needs it? Well, that's just gotta happen sometimes. I mean, if the kid gets away with us not finding out about something, well he gets a get out of jail free card, but we are his parents, you are his Dad and we just can't let shit like today go." Sam finishes his beer.

"Want another?"

"In a minute." Dean cocks his head in Sam's direction. "Dad never did find out about that fire did he?"

Sam shakes his head thoughtfully. "If he did, he never connected it to us. Besides, he found out about a lot more other shit we did to make up for one burned up field."

Dean agrees. They got caught quite a bit growing up. He looks over at Sam, but there was a lot that Dad never knew about either. He figures Sam is thinking the same thing.

"Well, maybe we can pretend not to know about some of the little stuff, you know, cut the kid a break once in a while." Sam rocks the chair forward and starts to rise to head back in the house. He turns cocks his head in typical Sam fashion.

"Do you think that Dad ever did that? You know, pretended that he didn't know what we were doing just to cut us some slack?"

"I don't know…maybe. But it doesn't sound like John Winchester to me."

"Well, we'll leave Dad out of this. Just you and me. We'll just let some of the little shit go and focus on the important stuff. What do you think?" Sam grins again and Dean is not sure if it's because he is doing this for Jamie or if he is just happy to be pulling another one over on the old man. Sam is like that sometimes.

"Okay. It's a deal. But let's just make sure Dad doesn't find out about it. My ass still doesn't feel too safe when I think that _he _thinks I might be lying about something."

Sam claps him on the back and they both head back in for another beer.

end


End file.
